


It's Okay

by orphan_account



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, They've been friends since they were babies and they besties ya kno, highschool!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 11:29:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6327190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something's been bothering Oliver's best friend - what other reason would Connor have for repeated late night visits?</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Okay

**Author's Note:**

> I kinda pictures how cute a coliver first kiss would be if they were like 16 and don't know how to have ~feelings and yeah this happened. Unbeta'd :) Kudos & comments always appreciated!!

"How many times are you gonna show up at my house at midnight this week, Con?"

A bright grin against the dark night. 

"Only as many times as you let me in. Speaking of which..." 

Oliver sighed and stepped back, opening his house's back door for his best friend to slip in. Connor immediately flicked on the lights and headed to the fridge. Oliver followed frantically, switching off the lights and closing the fridge door in Connor's face.

"Dude, what the--"

Oliver shushed him, laughing quietly as he took Connor's arm. He led their way through the unlit house. Connor could navigate the place in his sleep, but Oliver had noticed the goosebumps layering Connor's arms and figured his warm hands might help fight off the chill left by the night air.

Connor kept close, voice low. "You know I've known the way to your room for years - no need to lead me." Oliver glimpsed the other boy's smirk and shook his head once again.

The pair reached Oliver's door without disturbing his sleeping parents. 

As Oliver locked the door, Connor strolled in and collapsed on the bed. From where he lay, Oliver watched him peruse the certificates and posters lining Oliver's bedroom walls. 

Connor had seen these same decorations at least a thousand times - the perks of living next door to your best friend of sixteen years meant that spontaneous visits were never off limits. 

It also meant that Connor and Oliver had attended the same preschool, primary school and were in the same year at secondary school. Time together was definitely not rare, but still Oliver woke up most nights to a text from Connor requesting to be let in. 

Recently, these midnight visits had been almost nightly. Oliver was conflicted between being concerned and grateful; he didn't particularly _hate_ the visits.

Oliver settled on the end of his own bed next to Connor's stretched out legs. "I don't know why you're here. Your late visits have left my cupboards empty and my secret sweet stash gone, so food isn't an option."

"Your company is all I ever need, Ollie." 

Oliver rolled his eyes and fixed his glasses.

Connor propped his arms behind his head and lifted his feet to rest in Oliver's lap. The action screamed intimate, but Oliver was accustomed to casual displays on Connor's part. His knowledge that it was normal didn't stop him from smiling inwardly.

"Listen, Ollie, actually, I know I've been around a lot lately. It's, um, it's weird I know..." Connor's words trailed off, his eyes darting around. His arms had dropped and wrapped around one of Oliver's pillows against his chest.

Oliver nodded, quiet now. He'd guessed Connor's odd mood shifts lately had been the cause of so many recent visits. He wasn't going to complain, certainly, but the concern for his closest friend was only growing.

"Con, you can tell me what's going on, you know that right? I'm always here."

The room was still and dark, but Connor's eyes were light - and focused on Oliver. "I wanted to, um, talk to you about something..."

"It's okay Con," Oliver said with caution. Vulnerable moments like these were rare with Connor Walsh; he knew to tread carefully.

Connor huffed a deep breath and looked up, smiling brightly. Oliver had to admit, his smile was something to admire. "Never mind. It's just this text coming up for Miss Keating's class - you know how stressed I get." 

"Stressed. That's an understatement," Oliver smiled in return. Connor simply looked down and hugged the pillow tighter, and Oliver felt his chest constrict at the sight of his friend so disconcerted. Something was on his mind.

Moving Connor's legs to the side, Oliver shuffled to take the seat on Connor's right at the head of his own bed. It had always been like this - whenever Connor was dropping by, whenever he wound up staying the night, Oliver would be on the right and Connor on the left. It was just what they did.

Something else they did was watch Netflix. Usually with snacks; Connor's favourites were Oreos, which was why Oliver's mum had found a stack hidden under Oliver's bed. More than once. She'd never been mad, just confused as to why Oliver was hoarding biscuits. He figured it'd be strange to admit that he loved when Connor would split them and eat the plain side, and give Oliver the side with the filling.

Other times they would study. These visits didn't usually last long as study sessions - they'd quickly switch to prank episodes or TV marathons of shows neither of them cared about or paid attention to.

Oliver's favourite thing they did when Connor came over was to sit. And talk. Sometimes they'd listen to quiet music with an earphone each - so his parents wouldn't hear - and they'd just talk in hushed tones for hours on end. On special nights - when Connor's anxiety gets a bit too much - he would pick up a pen from somewhere and doodle absent patterns on Oliver's arms and hands.

When Connor did this, Oliver would wear long sleeved sweaters, even in the middle of summer, just so he could roll them up and peek at them during the day. He couldn't figure out why, but they brought a kind of warm reassurance to him - they were a sign that Connor was always there and that Connor knew Oliver would always be there.

This was one of those special nights. Connor dug out earphones from his pocket - he must've known how the night would end up - and Oliver plugged them into his phone. He had a playlist composed of songs he and Connor had picked out, one day when they were seven. The music was old, but neither of them cared. It was comforting.

Connor plucked a pen from the floor next to Oliver's bed and resumed the place he was so familiar with - curled up under the cover with Oliver's arm resting in his lap. 

Oliver watched and listened as Connor's pen swirled over his skin. Connor held his hand loosely in his own and drew with the other. Of course, Oliver had no clue what Connor was drawing - and Connor probably didn't either, considering it was so dark - but he felt the pen quicken and slow to the pace of the lilting song playing from their earphones.

Connor's lip was caught between his teeth. He was lost in concentration. Oliver couldn't resist a small smile - whatever was bothering Connor, it had left him alone. At least temporarily.

Then Connor's whisper broke out, almost inaudible, "I'm not that worried about the test."

Oliver's smile slackened. "That's good." Connor's head nodded with the music. "But that means you're worried about something else."

Connor didn't look at him, but kept his gaze on the invisible drawings on Oliver's skin. "I'm not so much worried... But I am kinda scared."

"About what?"

The pen stopped moving.

"Con?"

"I think there's, um, something I need to do. Something I should've done before now, but I've never really had the guts to do. I mean, I didn't even fully realise that I needed to do it before now, but..."

Oliver found Connor's hand in the blackness and held tight. It felt, once again, casual, yet heart-stoppingly intimate.

"Con?"

Connor's gaze lifted to meet his. His eyes were still bright, as if they held a flame. Oliver watched his mouth move as he whispered, mostly because his words were too quiet, "I need you to say it's gonna be okay. I know you don't know what it is, but you always help when I'm scared."

Oliver gulped. He nodded minutely. He could feel Connor's face only centimetres away from his own.

Connor tucked away the earphones, leaving peaceful quiet. He took his hand from Oliver's, only to place it tenderly on Oliver's blushing cheek. He pulled away the other boy's glasses and placed them on the bed.

Their faces were practically touching now. Connor paused. Oliver opened his lips, ever so slightly, to whisper, "It's okay."

And with that Connor kissed him. Just a peck at first, but then their lips were meeting again and again. The kiss was gentle and affectionate, a complete contrast to Oliver's erratic heart and flushing neck. Connor's other hand moved to bring him even closer, as though the inches between them were miles.

When they pulled apart some time later, legs tangled, they both grinned breathlessly.

"Is that what you were scared about?" Oliver murmured close to Connor's lips.

Connor kissed him again. "Yeah. Stupid of me, right? Like you would resist me."

~~~

They woke early. Oliver lay haphazardly, only registering Connor next to him when he felt the arm clinging to his middle.

Connor rushed to leave, urgently needing to get back to his house next door before his absence was noticed, but ensured he left Oliver with a lingering kiss and a promise to see him at school.

Once Connor had climbed inelegantly out the window, Oliver finally focused on readying himself. He was smiling like an idiot, running around his room to grab his glasses and clothes and books. 

He almost missed it when he was tugging on a shirt, but stopped to stare at the ink on his arm. His smile grew to a beam that filled his whole face; his left arm was covered in the usual swirls and patterns, from the night before. But right there on his wrist, in Connor's familiar scribble, were those words.

_I love you._

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr; makers-manhattan


End file.
